Asylum
by ms hearse
Summary: Time Travel story. Hermione is locked up in the loony bin, and Snape has come to hear her tale.


_I've had this story set aside for awhile now, but only after a friend's affliction, and the feelings that followed, was I able to really put it together. It was my emotional release, in a way, to a tale that affected me only indirectly; and so I'm going to dedicate it to her, in hopes that she will find happiness and resolution in her new journey, though it has nothing to do with her circumstance._

_In terms of the story itself, my only warning is that it contains some disturbing subject matter. Nothing is described in detail. _

_Thanks again to my beta-reader for slapping me, the millionth time over, for my horrible grammar skills (or lack thereof!)._

_Once again, I own nothing, but a piece of self-dignity. _

_Asylum_

Dreadful place, St Mungo's. He feared breathing lest he would catch something.

He would not have come if it had been anyone other than her. He had been waiting for something like this to happen, and when she had been committed, it had set off an alarm in his mind.

He came upon the Janus Thickey Ward at last. Taking a breath, he found her room and peeked in through the tiny window of the door.

"May I help you, Mr ---?" said a voice behind him.

He turned around to see a homely nurse standing just inside his personal space.

"Snape."

"Mr Snape," she said, "yes, we've been expecting you."

He nodded as she unlocked the door and directed him into the room.

It was small. There was a mattress, but it lay on the floor, devoid of any sheets. Everything was white; everything, that is, save for the blood stains in the corner where a figure was curled in on itself.

He looked at the nurse questioningly.

"There was an…accident. We haven't been able to clean it up yet."

"You will before I leave," he said in the most assertive voice he could muster.

"Yes sir," she said, frightened.

"Now leave."

"But sir…"

"Leave."

He waited for the door to shut before turning back to the figure in the corner.

"Hermione," he said softly.

The figure tensed, but did not look up.

"What have they done to you?"

He noticed then her hands, that they were missing fingernails, and her wrists were tied to splints.

"Did they hurt you," he asked, "or did you hurt yourself?"

Her head whipped up. Her eyes were still the golden brown that he remembered.

"They say you've gone silent," he said.

"Do you always believe what you hear?" she spoke.

He smiled slightly.

"So you hurt yourself," he said, not as a question, but as a statement. "Did you really think they would let you die?"

"It was worth the try."

"Sometimes," he agreed.

It surprised her.

"Don't pretend like you're the only one damaged."

"No one knows what I've seen."

"Is that right? Do share," he said.

She eyed him for a minute, perhaps uncertain of his interest.

"What am I going to do, send you to a crazy house?" he said bitterly.

She smiled. Wide.

"People think you're a traitor, Snape, but I know better. It's not a crime to be complicated, but it sure makes it hard for others to see where you stand."

"And what do you know of me?" he asked.

"I know what you're capable of."

"Care to expand?"

"I know how far you're willing to go."

"They say you claim to know the future," he said, trying to change the topic.

"And I know," she continued, "that you'd give anything for good to prevail."

"Yes?" he asked, a little mockingly.

"You die for it."

"In the future, you mean? Hermione, do you have a Time Turner?"

"Everyone dies."

"Eventually."

"No," she said, "they're murdered."

"What happened to the Time Turner?"

She stared at the wall.

"Hermione," he asked quietly, "the Time Turner."

"It jammed. I couldn't control it anymore. I was spinning through time; it was so hard to tell just _when_ I was."

"You aren't spinning anymore."

"No. I managed to fix it, but not before…"

"You were sent here?"

"Not before…I was damaged."

"I see," he said. "Did you die as well?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she snapped.

"Tell me about the future. Is it peaceful? Is it the same?"

"Worse."

He nodded, concerned.

"As evil as Voldemort is, there is a far worse threat upon us. He is nothing but the predecessor of evil."

He allowed a confused look to surface on his face.

"What is the name of this new evil?"

"Malfoy."

"Lucius?"

"_Draco_."

She said the name slowly, softly, and with more respect and horror than he had ever heard uttered from her lips. It sent a powerful chill through his spine.

"The muttonhead?" he asked, just as softly.

"I shouldn't say more."

"What of Potter?"

She shivered.

There was a sound at the door then; the handle turned and the door trembled, but stopped short of opening, as if in hesitation. He could hear voices on the other end. He looked at Hermione, who had delved back into her cowering position.

At last the nurse entered, carrying a bucket and an uneasy grin. She was followed by a tall, sturdy man: probably the Brawn of the institution.

"We will not be needing him," Snape said.

"Sometimes the patients like to…"

"Not this one," he said, stopping her.

She nodded; a vague expression in her eyes.

"Hermione, come away from the wall," Snape said, keeping his eye locked on the Brawn.

Hermione stood slowly and, still hunching, walked over to where Snape stood so the nurse could better access the red-smeared wall. The nurse looked at Hermione questioningly, then back to Snape, but did not share her thoughts.

She pulled a sponge from the bucket to scrub with.

"We like to do it the Muggle way, since some of our patients are disturbed by magick. We think it reminds them too much of why they are here."

The nurse continued to speak as she cleaned, the Brawn standing in the doorway, but Snape was not concerned with either of them. He could feel Hermione pushed up against him, finding in him some sort of odd comfort against the harshness of the room. He reached back and patted her frazzled hair, pressing her closer to him, as if to say that it was all right.

When the wall was white again, the nurse turned to him, satisfied, and nodded.

"Visiting hours end at eight," she said as she left the room, the Brawn following without a word.

Snape waited until the door was closed to pull Hermione from his side and direct her to the mattress. She sat, but only after he had. She kept her eyes down at the splints on her wrists, which must have served two purposes: to protect the wounds, and to prevent her from doing it again.

"Tell me where you went," he said at last.

She took in a breath of caution.

"Why?"

"So I can decide what to do next," he said.

"You won't believe me."

"You won't know unless you tell me," he said.

She shook her head.

"I suppose not."

He watched her fidget with her white gown: a basic-lined, thick, starkly-type garment meant to distinguish the nurses from the patients.

"McGonagall gave me the Time Turner," she started, "so that I could attend multiple classes at once. I was interested in too many course topics, and she thought I would be able to handle the load.

"But the Time Turner is ancient; its pieces are so delicate. I could feel them stick sometimes. It was random and only lasted for a few seconds, so I never worried about it.

"Until just before final exams."

Snape watched, slightly interested, as she sank her body down further into the mattress, for he had not thought it possible to sink any deeper in.

"What happened first?" he asked.

"When it finally stuck?" she asked.

"Yes."

"My travels weren't all bad. The first time, I went to the past," she said. "And I met someone. A student. I knew the rules; I knew I wasn't supposed to interact with anyone."

"Sometimes it's unavoidable," he said.

"Yes."

"And what of this 'someone' then?"

"Well," she said, swallowing loudly, "I didn't get his name. I was sneaking around the hallways of Hogwarts trying to figure out _when_ I was, and didn't see him when he bumped into me. He looked like my age, or, I suppose I should say that at that point in time, he was about what I am in this point of time."

"Don't bore me with specifications."

She nodded.

"He was a Slytherin, and quite rude," she said with a little snicker. "Before I knew it, we were arguing. I had knocked his books down when we bumped into each other. Then pointless arguing turned into serious debating. And that led to…"

She blushed as she remembered who she was speaking to.

"Flirting?" he offered, unaffected.

She swallowed and turned her attention to the floor.

"I don't often find people who can truly debate with me," she said softly, as if apologising.

"What happened then?" he asked.

"The Time Turner decided it was time to leave," she said. "Right in the middle of…talking…it just jutted me forward. I knew, by his facial expression, that I had interfered in time, against the rules of time travel. He should not have seen me leave. He shouldn't have even seen me at all."

"Regardless, where did you end up?"

"I don't know. It was the future from now at some point. Voldemort was defeated, and..." she trailed off.

He nodded, knowing that it must have been hard to say his name again. Draco. The newfound horror of the magickal realm.

She gulped.

"He was not in full power yet, I'm sure," she said. "I was with Harry. He wasn't surprised to see me, like he had been waiting for me, but he _was_ surprised at how young I looked. He was not that much older looking himself, except for a certain weariness in his eyes and a streak of white in his hair that sometimes comes of fright. I tried as best I could to play along, trying not to ruin what was taking place.

"We talked for hours, literally hours, and then he wanted me to go home with him. I suppose Hogwarts was a meeting ground for something else entirely, but I never decided if it was simply for old times, or if it was an official date.

"He walked me to his home, not a few blocks beyond Hogsmeade, actually. He was very kind. We had tea. He was worried about having nothing to do with himself after…"

"Spare me," Snape interrupted.

Hermione looked up at him then, a slight shock marked on her features. It was as though she was recalling something in the recesses of her mind, something curious, something dark, that humoured her, though not enough to share. It was a look, thought Snape, that made her seem at home in the Janus Thickey Ward.

"My next jump was into the past from where I was, the future from now," she said at last. "I was alone, and it was dark, but I could hear people nearby in the Forbidden Forest. I ran to it, using the trees to hide behind.

"It was the Great Battle. Voldemort and Harry were dueling, and there were Death Eaters everywhere."

She smiled then; a crooked little smile.

"I saw you there," she said. "I saw you twitch."

"Twitch?"

"That's what I thought it was at first; it was very curious," she said. "But when I looked closer, I could see that what you were really doing was flipping your wand around, ever so slightly, so as not to be caught. You were helping out. Any time Harry seemed to be winning, and just when you felt like it, you would hit Harry with something. Voldemort kept yelling at all of you to stop helping, that Harry was his, but you kept going.

"Then, out of nowhere, it seemed, you hit Voldemort instead. I don't know what you used, but it knocked him out of it just enough that Harry was able to hit him with the Cruciatus Curse. But Voldemort was quick. He put up a shield in time to catch it and send it flying back to Harry, who ducked out of its way.

"But you didn't give up. After hitting Harry a few times more, you went for Voldemort again. You kept at it for awhile, and no one caught you; they all thought it was Harry, even Voldemort did. Even though there were only two wizards dueling, there seemed to be a lot of confusion in that moment.

"Anyway, eventually, you decided to keep your aim at Voldemort, building up the intensity until you were all but jumping into the middle of the fight."

Hermione's eyes lit up. Her body had inched upward in anxiousness. The story was very dull to Snape, but having been there, having watched from a secret place the very battle that had been prophesied and talked about for years, it must have been very exciting for her to relate it to him.

"It was coming at him so fast, that he wasn't able to shield himself in time before Harry threw another Cruciatus Curse at him, hitting him, and _defeating_ him!"

The door opened then without a warning. It made Hermione jump in her spot, and retreat straight back into the huddle that she had been in up until this particular recollection.

It was the nurse.

"I heard yelling," she said, looking over the two of them in interest. "Is everything alright?"

"There was no yelling," Snape said, annoyed at the interruption.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr Snape?" she asked. "Is she being friendly?"

Snape eyed her intensely, with dislike written all over his face. He did not like the way that that had sounded. Hermione was not a wild animal. He was not risking his life, or his comforts, by being there.

"Actually, _there is_ something you cando," he said. "Remove those splints from her wrists."

The nurse's eyes widened for a moment.

"But she will hurt herself again!"

"No," he said calmly, "she won't."

"I don't know what you see her as," the nurse said, "but she is not well. Those splints are for her protection."

"And she does not need them anymore," he said.

She stared at him, not blinking, not moving, as if asking for something more.

"I promise she will not harm herself while I am around," he said.

It worked. The nurse, though reluctant, removed the splints and left the room, shaking her head the entire way.

There were deep scratches imbedded in Hermione's wrists where she had tried to bleed herself to death. It seemed surreal with the nailless fingers, though he knew they were removed _because _of the death threat.

He took out his wand, keeping his eyes on her reaction, and tapped it on her flesh until it healed. She said nothing in response, so he said nothing in return.

"The Time Turner has a short memory," she said, without skipping a beat. "If you don't give it a break, if you travel quickly between destinations, like I was, it will actually bring you back, or forward, to the place you once were, as if you had only left for a short while.

"I was flung into the future next, back to Harry."

She rubbed her fingers against the newly smooth skin of her wrists.

"He was professing his love for me."

Snape snorted, but caught it before it turned to laughter. Hermione looked at him, curious, but continued to speak.

"Although I wasn't sure what I would have done in that moment given the time that was supposed to have passed from now to then, I knew then - or is it now? - that I had to refuse him. I've never…I mean…"

"Understandable," Snape interrupted, trying not to stop the flow of recollection, but wanting deeply to stop the current topic from developing.

"I'm only mentioning it because it's important to know later," she said.

He nodded.

"I broke his heart," she said, but with no discernable level of remorse.

"Which you didn't hold dear. Like I said, understandable," he said.

She sighed.

"I do care about Harry. I just don't care about him in that way."

"What happened next?"

"The Time Turner went out of control. I would almost constantly fiddle with it, trying to make its tiny pieces move in the right way, but never could. But by working on it, I think I had actually made it worse! It was no longer sticking, but spinning out of control! I was being thrown into the past again, then it would flip around and throw me into the future! I was very dizzy by the time it decided to stop.

"And when it did, I was in the middle of a battle. I couldn't tell anything when I was there, but as I look back at it, it most certainly had something to do with…_Draco_.

"There were spells being flung every which way. I had to find cover. I ran, constantly dodging spells, but it seemed that no matter where I went, there was nothing but dead bodies to hide behind. So I piled a few bodies together in a circle around me and dragged one on top of me, and almost smashed the Time Turner trying to make it work. But it wouldn't budge; it had decided to stick again.

"And that's when I noticed the smell. It was very distinct, very poignant, and it made me nauseous. I looked around at the bodies, at my safety, and realized that most of them were already decaying. This was not the result of a major battle, but a major war! These bodies had been claimed earlier and had not been buried or even moved from their fallen place. I was in an open cemetery!

"I…I vomited a few times. It was all I could do. Those bodies were my safety; outside of their protection, there was screaming, there was murder, there was war.

"But the slipperiness, from all that sickness, greased the Time Turner and made it spin again!"

She stopped. Snape could see that she was uncomfortable, even getting a little upset. He knew it would help to touch her, even if just on the hand; women were very sensitive to touch, finding strength in its powerful simplicity, its hidden meaning. But he was not that type of man.

He sighed impatiently. Her eyes started to tear up, but she wiped them clean before she thought he could see.

"I went back to Harry then," she said, shaky. "He was angry that I had refused him. He didn't understand why I couldn't just pretend, since he had given up so much to save everyone, with nothing in return. He was very lonely.

"And very troubled."

"What did he do, Hermione?" Snape asked softly, anticipating the worst.

She stared down at the floor for what seemed like ages before responding.

"He raped me."

There was a knock at the door just before it opened. The nurse poked her head in and glanced at Hermione as she spoke, but somehow was unaffected by the fresh tears and shaking that Hermione displayed.

"Visiting hours are over, Mr Snape."

"Visiting hours do not apply to me," he said sternly.

"They apply if I say they do," she responded.

Snape looked back at Hermione, who was rocking back and forth. He tried to make eye contact with her, settling on a one-way stare, and told her that he would be right back. But as he stood to confront the nurse, Hermione jumped up to her feet and flung herself against the wall.

She clawed at her wrists, but as she no longer had nails, she reverted to using her teeth. The nurse ran for the Brawn, and Snape grabbed her and held her to him as tight as he could, making sure her arms were out of reach of her snapping jaw. He shushed loudly into her ear until she calmed.

By the time the Brawn arrived, she was whimpering, but no longer thrashing about.

"Get out of here," Snape demanded of them both.

"I told you she was ill," said the nurse.

"Get out," Snape snapped.

The nurse eyed him for awhile, but seeing Hermione calm, finally shut the door, leaving the two of them alone once more.

Snape continued to shush in her ear, slowly loosening his grip until she was free to sit back down on the mattress and cry.

"I'm not going to leave you," he said.

She looked at him with wet eyes and nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

He checked her wrists, but there was no blood, only teeth marks where she tried to rip the skin.

"You don't have to tell me about Harry," he said. "In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't."

She nodded again; the tears and subsequent mucus still smeared across her face as she spoke.

"Um, I think it was back to the past after that. Back to the boy without a name," she continued, softly, returning to her previous complacency. "He recognized me right away, grabbed me, and dragged me across Hogwarts' courtyard, to someplace quiet beside the Black Lake. He said that he knew I was a time traveler and wanted to know what I was doing going back there.

"I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I told him about the Time Turner, that it was sticking. I told him about Harry and about finding shelter in the bodies. And despite the vomit and the mud that was crusted on my clothes, and the slight smell of death in my hair, and the blood on my trousers, he…he hugged me.

"And I…I know that he was probably just lonely, and I was looking for help, but…"

It was Snape's turn to look down at the floor in embarrassment.

"I think that's when I first started to fall in love with him."

Snape did not look up. He focused solely on the off-colored grout between the tiles.

"He said that he was a sad soul, and that sad souls must care for each other in a world where no one else will. Um, he was very deep, you see," she said shyly. Then whispered, "he still is."

"That was a lot for him to say when he had only just met you, and wasn't certain of ever meeting you again," Snape pointed out.

"Yes it was," she responded, "but it was exactly what I needed to hear. He told me that he would look for me, and that he would…"

"You don't have to share."

"He tried to help me with the Time Turner, but in so doing, it shot me to the future. Back to Voldemort's demise. You…were caught…

"The Death Eaters were not pleased with you. Harry managed to run away because they were all focusing their attention on you. At least that was his side of the story. I knew better. I had watched it all play out in my previous travel there, and I watched you carefully. The last flip of your wand was a big, obvious one; you purposely made it easy to sight. You wanted to be caught.

"I think you knew that even if Harry _could_ kill Voldemort, he would not survive the Death Eaters. I think you gave yourself up for the greater good. I think you sacrificed yourself for Harry."

"What would give you such an idea?" Snape asked. "Maybe I was just clumsy."

"No," she said, staring intensely into his eyes as she spoke. "You aren't clumsy. You gave your life. You did it on purpose. And Harry got the credit."

Snape cleared his throat, uncertain how to feel about a heroic act that he had yet to even be faced with.

"But I will carry your bravery with me, Snape," she said. "And when that day comes again, if it comes again, I will spread the word."

"Even if you end up back here?" he asked. "If you ever leave, that is."

She smiled, a weary, crippled smile.

"There was one more travel into the future after that," she continued. "_Draco_ was in control. He had eyes that burned red like fire, and everybody did what he demanded of them, or they were tortured."

She shivered.

"I was captured. I don't know who held me down, but…_Draco_…seemed pleased that I was there to watch. He had Harry. He…

"I'd rather not share the details, if you don't mind."

"Just tell me the basics, then."

She nodded.

"He _contorted_ Harry, with magick. A human pretzel. I can still hear Harry scream. I can still hear the bones breaking. He wrapped him in so tight a knot that Harry wasn't able to breathe anymore, and died. Just like that. All wrapped up in the most inhuman ways.

"And then it was my turn."

"Did he hurt you too?" Snape asked, despite himself. He could feel his anger boil up.

"Not a lot," she admitted. "The Time Turner saved me just before anything serious. But I was thrown around, and cut, and bled quite a bit.

"But we were not the only ones. There were body parts everywhere. I recognized a lot of faces. What I had witnessed before was an open cemetery, but this…this was a human milkshake."

"What then?" Snape asked, trying not to keep her dwelling on it, seeing her grow anxious again.

"It's a little fuzzy, actually," she said. "I had been knocked in the head a few times, you see, but I distinctly remember watching my blood. It was the oddest thing. I just watched my blood fall from my face, from whatever wound was there, and saw it cover the Time Turner. It just completely covered it, every centimeter and angle.

"I remember calling out for someone to save me, but all I heard was laughter, just before another strike. The Time Turner started to spin then, maybe from being hit, or maybe from my cries, and the blood that covered it was shaken off.

"And then I was home. Or close to it. I had to wait out a few days to make sure. The Time Turner had brought me back to the time that I was meant to be in, and then it just froze. The pieces locked indefinitely, and I buried it someplace beside Hogwarts where it could never be used again.

"But I foolishly shared my journey. I had to, really, I was covered in blood. But no one believed me. No one even listened. They just threw me in here."

Snape reached out, uncertain, to touch her shoulder, but drew back instead. She looked at him, with eyes damp and longing.

"_I_ believe you."

"You said you would," she responded.

"I needed to hear you tell me, though, just as you needed to tell it."

She kept very still.

"Because," he said, "I made a promise to you when I was very young that I would care for you…"

"…in a world where no one else will?" she finished for him.

He nodded.

"Yes. I spent almost a lifetime fantasizing about meeting you again," Snape admitted, "but you had not yet met me when you first came to Hogwarts. You couldn't have possibly known then the impact that you had had on me so many years ago.

"When I was told that you were here, I knew that you had finally taken that journey."

"And your promise to me?" she asked, dewy eyed.

"I kept my promise," he said. "But you are still young. I have aged since you first entered my life, Hermione. There is just too much _time_ between us now, too much experience. Although no one else has replaced you, I've always known it would come to this."

She began to cry anew. He wiped aside her tears with his palms.

"I will be back tomorrow," he said. "We can speak of better times then."

He left her, still shaking madly on that mattress, still registering his words. He heard her scream out, her voice as loud and piercing as any sound he had known before, if not simply for the impact it had on his heart; he sensed her body slam against the walls in frustration.

He shut the door behind him, knowing that he would indeed return the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that, until his own days ran cold and empty.

And that nothing more would come of it.


End file.
